


Aware

by nickelmd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nervous Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16248866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelmd/pseuds/nickelmd
Summary: Written for my dearVioletHaze, who donated toward the TrashBrigade Gisholarship fund.Her original prompt was “Nervous flyer Dean being comforted by Cas”





	Aware

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Nat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePamelaOracle) and [Christy](https://twitter.com/horrorfemme) for excellent editing and reassurance.

Cas walks back into the war room with his phone dangling from his hand and a pinched brow.

“Was that Claire?” Dean asks, nodding toward the phone, then straightening slightly to attention at whatever he must see on Cas’ face, “Is she ok?”

“Yes, yes, of course. She’s fine…” Cas trails off distractedly. Dean glances from Cas’ face to his phone and back, obviously waiting for something. Cas belatedly and self-consciously pockets the phone. When he returns his gaze to Dean, Dean raises his eyebrows and juts out his chin expectantly, but doesn’t go quite so far as to tell Cas he’s waiting to hear more about Claire. 

Cas thinks Dean speaks more in silences than words. It can be confusing and exhausting, but Cas is getting better at hearing the unspoken words.

“She,” he starts, stops, still a little bewildered from the conversation. He tries again, “She wants me to come to a meeting. She’s going undercover as a new student, and she needs a parent.” Cas frowns, it sounds wrong when he says it like that. “For her cover. She needs a parent to be at a meeting. For her cover. Jody was going to do it, but something came up and she can’t get away.”

Dean swipes his hand over his mouth before he asks, “When does she need us?” 

Cas swallows his surprise at Dean’s casual assumption that he’ll be joining Cas on the trip. “Her meeting is tomorrow afternoon. In Miami. She’s texting me information on flights.”

“Yeah. Ok. I guess—I guess that makes sense. Let me know when you’re ready to book the flights, I’ve got a new card tucked away for emergencies. It’s currently felony free.” 

“Dean, you don’t have to—“ Cas tries to say.

“Have you established some kind of credit while I wasn’t looking?” Dean asks.

“No, I—“

“It’s fine, Cas. Come on. You gonna let Claire pay for it?” Distaste turns the corners of Cas’ mouth down. “See. Good talk.” Dean stands. “Now I gotta go figure out what kind of weapons I can get on a plane.” 

* * *

“Did I just hear Dean talking about getting on a plane?” Sam asks, head swiveling in the direction Dean went.

“Yes. Claire needs my help and Dean is coming with me.” 

“Is Claire ok?” Sam asks, concerned.

“She’s fine. She is working a case going undercover as a student and needs a parent for a school meeting.”

“And Dean is coming with you?” Sam asks.

“Yes.”

“On a plane?” Sam presses.

“Yes.” Cas frowns. “Unless you’re worried something might come up, and you’d need him here?” 

“What? No. That’s not--it’s fine. Dean can go with you. I can hold down the fort,” Sam assures him, “But, didn’t Dean want to drive?”

“I know Dean prefers to drive, but the timing doesn’t allow it,” Cas explains.

“Huh,” is all Sam says. Cas feels like he’s missing something, but doesn’t quite know how to ask.

* * *

Cas’ sense that he’s missing something vital only grows stronger as Dean avoids him, except for a few brief exchanges in the hallway. He doesn’t seem…angry…exactly, but tense and brusk. Cas considers provoking a fight simply so he can point out that he didn’t ask Dean to drop everything and accompany him. The only thing that restrains him is the gut feeling that whatever Dean is upset about, in spite of the coincidental timing, isn’t actually about Cas at all. 

However, by the time Dean’s shouts of, “Be ready to go in 5, Cas. I’m not waiting for your feathery ass,” echo through the bunker, Cas is disgruntled and disappointed— and angry at himself for being disappointed—that what Cas had interpreted as a kindness on Dean’s part, maybe even a desire to spend time with Cas, is clearly more of a burden that Dean has chosen to bear, and not even all that gracefully.

Cas is sure to arrive outside the door to the garage before Dean, more out of spite than dedication to timeliness. Dean comes barreling down the hall yelling, “Cas come on—“ until he looks up and sees Cas waiting for him. He stops abruptly before saying, “uh. Ok. Let’s hit the road.”

“Dean, what—“ Cas starts and stops. Cas has seen Dean in many different outfits, of course. His traditional angry lumberjack attire, suitable for hunting in all conditions, his Fed suits for investigation, soft tee shirts and jeans with holes for days in the bunker between cases, and very occasionally, when Cas has shown up unexpectedly, his long robe for prowling the bunker when he can’t sleep, but he’s still stunned nearly speechless. 

Starting at the worn brown penny loafers, his eyes begin moving up the staid khakis and to the soft blue dress shirt, a little rumpled, with sleeves rolled to the elbow, paired with a cream sweater vest with buttons and some kind of intricate Irish cables down the front. Perched on Dean’s nose are a pair of dark, thick rimmed glasses that Cas knows he’s heard Dean refer to as, “stupid fake hipster glasses.” While Cas had no opinion on the glasses when Dean commented on them in the past, his feelings on them are currently hovering somewhere between charming and extremely charming. To complete the ensemble, instead of a worn duffle, Dean is pulling a gray, hard-sided roller bag. 

Dean fidgets under the scrutiny, “What? I gotta pass for a dad, don’t I?”

Cas collects himself. “Yes. Yes, you look very,” Cas searches for the sentiment least likely to upset Dean. He discards anything too complimentary, finally landing on, “appropriate.”

Dean huffs and says, “Yeah, well, this ain’t my first rodeo, you know. Some of us need more than one outfit to blend in.”

“Of course. I’m sure Claire will appreciate your attention to detail.”

* * *

The car ride to the airport is inexplicably tense. It starts with Dean reaching past Cas’ legs to grab his battered copy of Houses of the Holy, turning up the volume to an ear-splitting level. Cas makes an effort to repress his sigh. As pleased as he was that Dean wanted to accompany him, there is no question that Dean’s presence is often more confusing and frustrating than pleasurable. Still, Cas thinks, glancing covertly at Dean’s profile, there is some pleasure to be had, even when Dean is at his most irritating. 

Dean interrupts his thoughts by snapping, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

Cas rolls his eyes, sighs loudly. “I’m only trying to ascertain why you came if you are so angry about it,” Cas replies over the blaring music.

“I’m not—“ Dean thankfully changes tacts when he glances over and sees the incredulity on Cas’ face. He reaches down and turns the volume to a moderate level before saying, “Look, it’ll be fine once we get there.”

“The airport?” Cas asks, lost, as usual, by Dean’s logic.

“What? No. When we,” Dean stops and licks his lips. “—uh—” Cas follows the movement, but notices Dean’s normally flush pink lips look paler than usual. In fact, his whole face has an unnatural pallor. “—land,” Dean finishes and Cas has to focus to remember what the beginning of that sentence was. 

“Do you feel ok?” Cas asks.

Dean’s mouth tenses into a straight line before he says, “I’m fine.”

“You look unwell.” Cas reaches out to press his hand to Dean’s forehead, but Dean bats it away.

“No, thanks, Mom.” Dean turns the music back up and looks straight ahead. Cas recognizes a dismissal when he sees one, so he watches the scenery pass through his window instead of poking at whatever is bothering Dean.

* * *

At the airport, Dean becomes more, not less, agitated. Every attempt at conversation meets a dead end. They find their gate and Cas finds a seat and makes himself comfortable. Dean follows, but, after one glance out the large windows to the airplanes beyond, he stands in front of Cas, waiting, like a prisoner looking for a way to escape. 

“Dean, this is ridiculous. You obviously don’t want to be here. Tell me what is going on or go home.” 

There’s a brief moment of hurt on Dean’s face that quickly disappears under an angry frown. “If you don’t want me going with you, just say it.”

“What? Why would you—? I just want to know what’s wrong, and while I love your company even when you are acting like a colossal ass, I also don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be.”

“Look, shouldn’t you just know what’s wrong anyway,” Dean says as he makes an unhelpful motion between them.

“Are you telling me you want me to,” Cas’s voice is raised and they are attracting attention. He stands up so he can say more quietly, “look inside your thoughts?” Dean’s face flashes through shock and then alarm before Cas continues, ”Because you’ve been quite clear on your expectations of privacy in the past.”

“No. Not that. Jesus.” Dean wipes a hand over his face and scrubs his hair. “I just meant, I don’t know, our profound bond or whatever.”

“It doesn’t…it’s not like that.” Cas hesitates, “I suppose I am more aware of you, but—“

“Aware?” Dean repeats.

“Yes. Aware. But knowing that you are filled with anger right now—anger, spiked with anxiety, and under it all a steady, unending longing—That doesn’t mean I know why.” Cas stops. “Dean, it can’t be a surprise to you that I rarely know what you want from me.”

Dean seems to deflate. “Yeah, well, you’re not the easiest guy to read either.” He gives Cas a slight push to encourage him to sit down and Dean lands heavily in the seat next to him. The silence stretches out so long Cas wonders if the conversation is over. Finally Dean looks over at him. “I’m afraid of flying.”

Cas’ mouth drops open. He replies without thinking, “You’re not afraid of anything.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Surprise,” he says, voice briefly filled with fake cheer.

“Why—“

“Because it’s a metal tube of death, ok?”

“No, why didn’t you tell me?” Cas asks. 

“Because I wanted to do this with you. Because it’s stupid to be willing to face down the devil, but lose my shit at flying across the country. Because you had a simple human favor to do for Claire and I wanted to help.”

“And that’s why you’re angry? Because you’re afraid? You’re not,” Cas asks, “angry with me for dragging you on this trip?”

“No, man. I’m not angry with you.”

The two lapse into a more comfortable silence for several minutes.

“So, uh,” Dean asks, “longing, eh?”

Cas sighs. “Yes. It’s hard to describe.” 

“How does it feel?” Dean asks, pinning him with an intense stare.

“Feel?” 

“Yeah, feel. If you can’t describe the feeling itself, tell me how you feel about it.”

“It feels personal.” Cas clasps his hands between his knees. Like it’s a secret between us. Except, I’m not supposed to be in your emotions, so I don’t know why it feels like it’s...” Cas pauses, not sure how to continue. He tries again, “Sometimes when you are yelling at me, it flares so strongly, I can hardly breathe. I’ve wondered if it is your desire to be away from everything I represent. A life where you weren’t mixed up in the politics of Heaven and Hell. But even then, instead of pushing me away, it’s beckoning me closer.” 

“And how does that make you feel?” Dean asks quietly.

“I feel, that is when I let myself feel it, I, it makes me,“ Cas licks his lips and watches Dean watch the movement, “want.”

“Want what?” Dean asks.

“Dean, it’s not…”

“I asked you a question, Cas.”

Cas feels held in place by Dean’s gaze alone. Lying feels impossible. “I want…when I feel it, I want to fix it. I know it’s a terrible invasion of privacy. I don’t…I try to stay distant, but sometimes, when I’m far from you, I draw it in on purpose. It feels like if I could just pull it all into myself it would ease your pain. And sometimes when we’re together, like now, it’s all I can do to keep myself from reaching out to touch you because I feel sure it would help somehow. It’s not mine, but somehow it is too.”

Dean is still staring and Cas can’t look away. There’s heat in Dean’s eyes, but it’s not anger any more. 

“We’re a couple of dumbasses.”

“Wha—“ Cas objects, but then Dean’s hand is on his tie pulling him in and Dean’s lips are on his own and while surprising, it’s not unwelcome, so he shuts down any objections in order to participate more fully.

Dean's kisses are soft, but insistent until Cas’ head is swimming. Dean pulls away and leans their foreheads together. 

“Oh,” Cas says simply.

“Yeah.” Dean let’s go of his tie and sits back. Cas feels strangely bereft, but then Dean’s hand is out and resting on his knee and that feels almost as good.

The public announcement system at their gate crackles on. A perky woman explains the boarding procedure, while Cas stares at Dean.

“What?” Dean asks with a smile on his face.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

Dean glances up at the boarding attendant. He stands, pulling Cas up after him. Dean grabs the roller bag with one hand and grabs Cas’ hand with the other. He pulls them to their spot in line, before dropping his hand. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was something I was allowed to have. I didn’t want it to be the thing that finally drove you away for good. Big gay panic. Pick one.”

“And now?”

“I’m tired of hurting you more by not telling you what’s going on in my head.” Dean cocks his head, “And also you said you loved my company even when I was being an ass.” Dean smiles at him from underneath his eyelashes and Cas really shouldn’t be surprised Dean can still find new ways to take his breath away. 

Still, Cas feels it would be unwise to give away all his cards this early, so he just pushes him away lightly and says, “You should show me some respect,” as seriously as he can muster. It’s worth it for the way Dean’s whole body is suddenly at attention, although the slight flush comes as a surprise. Cas concludes that is worthy of exploration at some later date.

The line in front of them begins to move. As they get closer to the jet bridge, Dean’s body language becomes more tense. Cas slides his hand down Dean’s arm to remind him he’s here. Dean makes an effort to relax as they continue walking. They give their boarding passes to the attendant, and walk onto the jet bridge. Cas takes Dean’s hand and squeezes as they are slowly herded onto the plane. Dean’s anxiety is only betrayed by a slight unevenness to his breathing. 

Once they are settled in their seats, Cas leans into Dean’s space to offer, “Would you like me to?” he raises two fingertips meaningfully.

Dean smiles back tightly. “No, man. That’s fine. I’m just gonna,” at that he grips the armrests and closes his eyes. Cas pries Dean’s fingers from the armrest between them and laces their fingers together. He squeezes Dean’s hand just enough to give him permission. Dean squeezes back and briefly opens his eyes to smile at Cas.

During takeoff and landing Cas is glad for his angelic strength as Dean tries to crush every bone in his hand. He relaxes his hold in flight, except during a particularly strong bout of turbulence. Otherwise the flight is uneventful and they soon find themselves standing at the luggage carousel with their shoulders brushing.

Dean leans his head toward Cas, eyes still on the carousel. “Thanks.”

Cas turns his head and looks at Dean until Dean turns to meet his gaze. “Anytime.” Then, because he’s allowed now, he leans forward and brushes their lips together. 

He’s just pulling back when he hears a surprised, “Um…” from a familiar voice. They both turn to see Claire staring at them. 

“Car’s out front,” Claire jabs her fingers in the direction of wide automatic doors. She turns and heads back to the doors, blond hair swinging behind her. “I gotta text Sam that he owes me $20.”

“What?” Dean and Cas ask simultaneously.

“Claire,” Dean yells after her. She stops texting just long enough to shoot him a rock on hand sign. Right before she’s through the doors she turns.

“Fucking finally.”


End file.
